


Flowers

by greensparrow29



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Canon Trans Character, Character Study, Flower meanings, Fluff, Kinda, M/M, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Victorian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 19:25:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11630274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greensparrow29/pseuds/greensparrow29
Summary: Flowers had always fascinated him. They were the brightness on the cracked sidewalk outside his house (he refused to call them weeds). The only nice thing in the quaint garden of their terraced house. The only real constant in his young life.By a young age, he knew the name of every single one in his area and the ones he couldn't find out? Well, he instead named them himself.A kinda character study of the character of Damien Bloodmarch, my favourite character in Dream Daddy.Including: flower meanings that took way too long to research, fluff that I don't know is fluffy enough to categorize it as such and me loving this character way too much.





	Flowers

Flowers had always fascinated him. They were the brightness on the cracked sidewalk outside his house (he refused to call them weeds). The only nice thing in the quaint garden of their terraced house. The only real constant in his young life.

By a young age, he knew the name of every single one in his area and the ones he couldn't find out? Well, he instead named them himself.

His step mother had loved his interest. She saw him taking care of the garden and him learning about it as a chance to "bond with her darling step daughter". The garden soon filled with the flowers they planted: sunflowers, roses, lilies, cinquefoil. He had wanted to be left alone, but she was the one who gave him the money for the seeds, so he accepted her help.

Turns out she could be quite pleasant.

And that she was allergic to pollen.

Soon, in school, he started learning about the Victorian Era. It was like a light switch- that, that is the most interesting thing he was ever going to learn about. He went to the library that very day and got out every book he could on the period. He researched and researched and soon all he could think of were the fashion, the technology, the writing.  
The flowers slowly started dying in the garden- he didn't even notice.

A book caught his eye one day, going through the History section of the library. It was bright, not dingy and drab like the other books- it was a nice green, leather-bound, obviously quite old. He pulled it out and read the title.

"The Language of Flowers."

He read the whole book in a night.  
______________________________________________

As he grew older, he knew that he should have grown out of his interests already, moved on to something else. He couldn't. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't understand how all the other girls his age were obsessed with some of the things they were. Makeup? Relationships? Modern clothes? There was so much more to the world than their frivolousness and gossip.

Perhaps he should have tried harder, found someone with similar interests. Honestly, nobody ever wanted to talk to him anyway.

What was the point?

______________________________________________

One of his favourite places to go was the florists on his way home from school. The owner was nice, an old woman who he had known for quite a few years. She was always happy to help him find a flower and loved to hear him talk about them and the history behind them. She was his only confidence at that age.

Her death hit hard and fast. Painless, old age

It hurt him bad.

His step mom and his dad died a year later. Car crash. He was at home.

He avoided everyone after that.  
_______________________________________________  
He graduated that year, packing up and leaving as soon as he could. He sold the small house he had grown up in. Also selling the florists that he had inherited (he had never been able to keep it on its feet anyway.) He went to college and university, studying History and ICT.

He did well- got a good job as a tech guy, moved to a nice area, started volunteering at the dog shelter. He started being able to buy things he had always wanted- expensive Victorian style clothing, a gothic house and, of course, a garden fit for a Victorian nobleman.

One of the main things was that he could afford to transition.

He never thought he'd be able to do that until he was much older. He was very thankful.

_______________________________________________

The next thing that happened in his life was Lucien. Damien had always wanted a child, but he knew that he would never have one biologically- he couldn't, as a matter of fact, after he transitioned.

It took a lot of time to convince himself that letting someone new into his life was a new idea. He had lost so many people... But, he had also met many people. His neighbors were some of the nicest people he had ever met...

Despite everything, he still wanted a child and he ended up he deciding on adoption.

He was scared admittedly- his father had never been the best, yet, he was determined to be the best dad he could be! He just hoped he wouldn't be embarrassing; I mean, he wasn't exactly... normal. Or healthy. Or good with children. Oh god, why was he doing this again?

Having renovated one of the rooms in his house to fit what he expected a kid to like (gargoyles were cool, right?), he went to the orphanage. It wasn't a very dramatic ordeal, he went in talked to some of the kids. Then he noticed one hanging back, reading a book quietly. He was a bit older than he thought he would want, about 8 or 9, but, well, he was perfect.

Damien took the boy home a few days later, promising to show him his library. His face lit up at that.

He couldn't stop his grin from forming.

______________________________________________

No matter how punk or rebellious Lucien got, Damien still loved him and honestly? As Lucien got older, not much changed. They still had the same relationship-he just had to come and collect him from school now and again. He did get into a lot of trouble.

Though his choice of clothing and style did bother him a bit (who made pants that tight?), he was still his son and whatever interests he may have, did not affect him.

One of their favourite things, especially when Lucien was younger, was to work on the garden together. Even in his teenage years, he still helped. They shared their interest in them-Damien taught him everything he knew. Exactly what flowers to get that person he liked. What flowers to give to an asshole he wanted to roast without much drama. What flowers to give to ask someone for forgiveness.

They talked in flowers a lot. It was a very good way of showing how they felt. Lucien just had to say or show "dead leaves" or "Colchicum " for Damien to know when he was upset. Damien only had to say "Aloe" or "Fumitory" to portray similar feelings to his son. It was the best system for them and, with the vastness of their garden and their knowledge, they persevered.

________________________________________________

When Damien heard there was a new neighbor who moved into the cul-de-sac, he was admittedly apprehensive. New people? Not the nicest thing.

However, after having met the peculiar man, he was quite... intrigued. As well as attracted. It scared him, but well, he could always just ignore it and go on with his life?<br />  
Of course, the man decided that it was a good idea to message him on that frivolous social media site, DadBook.

He guessed that he had paid no mind that he had specified in his description that he much preferred letters over messaging.

Damien was admittedly trying to be civil towards him, so he replied, though he was sure that he most likely did not do it particularly well. Perhaps next time, he will write him a letter himself.

__________________________________________________

Damien had very rarely felt the way he did for the fellow dad. Romantic feelings were always an anomaly to him, only having one or two crushes his whole life up to that point.

Nothing compared to his attraction to the other man. He had only read of such feelings in the works of Jane Austen and of Oscar Wilde. It scared him that he had fallen so quickly.

The man had received his first letter as Damien had hoped and replied in kind. It was... sweet. Even if the man's handwriting was atrocious. They corresponded regularly through that method, chatting back and forth. They became more comfortable in the way they wrote to each other as they went along.

Their first date (could he call it that?) was amazing, the afternoon tea was lovely and the walk through the garden was even better.

The man had seemed very intrigued when Damien had talked of the meanings of the flowers. It had given the young man a few ideas about the bouquet he would inevitably give to the other man.

A handkerchief would be okay in the mean time, anyway.

___________________________________________________

It was not long until the afternoon tea was followed by another date, though Damien was visibly not exactly excited about this one. He knew the man had meant it as a bit of a joke-he did admit that he looked very much like a vampire. Yet, he was still quite scared, horror movies were not good for him.

It was sweet that the other man had let him squeeze his hand almost to the point of stopping his blood flow. It was much nicer after the movie. Damien had known that a picnic was a good idea, though he thought the setting might have put the other off. Instead, he was more curious than creeped out, something Damien was happily able to help with.

Maybe there was something there. He definitely wanted there to be-though Damien knew that his feelings were most likely not requited.

For now though, he enjoyed the nice company.

Damien did end up giving the other man a handkerchief, though he was sure that the other had not gotten the meaning behind it. Sad really, it would really help to ease his anxieties.

___________________________________________________

Damien almost cried one day when he received a letter of his beloved neighbor. Along with the letter, was a beautiful bouquet, he could almost smell the story that was to be told through it. He was excited, if not a bit nervous. Hopefully, the message would be nice.

In the letter, it read,

" _Dear_   _Damien,_  
_I hope that I have not unjustly insulted or confused you through these flowers. According to the internet, the meanings are right and did this beautiful art correctly (Amanda helped as well)._ _If you wish to talk about what I might have suggested, I will be anxiously awaiting your arrival at my house._

_Yours for ever,_

_your beloved neighbor."_

Damien looked at the flowers, identifying them all easily. Tears started to roll down his face as he identified each of the meanings.

-Red Tulips (declaration of love)

-Red Roses (love)

-Rose of Sharon (consumed by love)

-Myrtle (love)

-White Carnation (living for love)

-Red Carnation (deep love)

-Porcelana Roses (admiration)

He had really laid on thick how much he loved him. It was beautiful- he had taken the time to learn about something Damien adored, just to make him happy. Nobody had ever tried to do that for him before; he was more grateful than he could describe.

He had to see him.  
_________________________________________________

Damien arrived at the other's house quickly and knocked awkwardly, tears still in his eyes.

The other man sprinted to the door, his face falling as soon as he saw Damien in tears.

"Holy shit, did I do something wrong? Did the flowers actually spell out something horrible and now you hate me, because I don't want it to be like that...!"<br />  
Damien kissed him suddenly, almost laughing into it.

"You have done nothing of the sort, my love, the bouquet was just very beautiful. You really laid it on quite thick how much you love me."</p>

"Wait, there is something else! Come in and sit down."

Damien was quite confused, but obeyed, sitting meekly on the living room couch.

The man didn't take long to come back, holding another bouquet of flowers. Are those gardenias?

Damien blushed, happily.

"I really liked these, so I ended up buying myself a bouquet, but I forgot to actually put some in yours!" the man said, laughing awkwardly.

"It is fine, I love them as well, I have quite a few bushes in my garden," Damien reminded, smiling.

"I came and I saw and I sadly did not conquer because your garden is gorgeous. I loved these flowers and remembered them. What is their meaning?"

"You don't know?"

He shakes his head.

"'You are lovely.'"

The other man grinned.

"Do you think I could braid some in your hair?"

Damien looked surprised and then nodded, giving the other consent to do so.

They sat there as the man braided Damien's hair in one big french braid, adding flowers as he went along. It looked beautiful. He always joked with the step mom that whenever he did anything similar to this that he looked like a princess.

It was a bit of a relief to look in the mirror and see a beautiful prince staring back at him. His clumsy knight in shining armor looking at the finished product happily.

"It isn't exactly the best I've ever done, Amanda stopped having braids in her hair when she was ten, but your hair looks as lovely as you are."

Damien laughs, turning towards the other.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."


End file.
